Shepherd of the Flock
by Zaxarus
Summary: A story about a Templar who is able to see the soul behind the mages' bodies. Templar Darya accompanies Warden Keili on her quest to save Fereldan.
1. Chapter 1 Shepherd of the Flock

**Shepherd of the Flock**

_Denerim, five years before the battle of Ostagar_

"Darya?" The addressed woman startled and looked at the boy. He seemed so tiny and lost on the pier, his belongings around him. The men on the ship behind him worked to unload the freight. It was the last thing that linked him to his home. Or better: linked both of them to their home, as she had left Kirkwall behind the same as he did.

But for her it had been her own choice. Not forced on her as it had been done to the boy. Darya allowed herself to bestow him a little smile to soften her required rebuke: "Templar Darya it is, Apprentice Emile. Do you have a question?"

Emile de Launcet was only twelve years old. With his odd hair style, colorful clothes and orlesian accent he would surely have problems with the other apprentices at the tower of Lake Calenhad. She understood the reasoning behind sending him away from Kirkwall, away from his mother who tried to interfere in his teachings since he was sent to the Gallows of Kirkwall. But understanding was not the same as feeling it to be right. She had always thought it to be better to integrate the mages, not to lock them away. As her mentor Thrask often tried to explain: better give the mages a reason to behave, a reason to help the community, than to simply enforce it.

But too often his reasoning went unheard. The majority of the Kirkwall Templars were enthralled by the iron-fist-policy of Knight-Commander Meredith. She was a devout follower of the maker, about that Darya had no doubts. But this suppression seemed to only heighten the tension between Templars and Mages. More than once she had clashed with the Knight-Commander about the proper handling of mages and it was only thanks to Thrask that she had not been demoted from her rank as a Knight-Sergeant. As it had been decided to send Emile away, Thrask suggested sending Darya with him to make sure Emile's safe arrival and concurrent … get lost of her.

"How … how will it be, there at this Cal … Cell …" nervously he began to stutter. Darya laid a hand on his shoulder. She should not touch a mage, even an apprentice, but this boy was so frightened. "Calenhad is the name, Apprentice Emile. I really don't know, I have only once been in Ferelden and only in Denerim then. I've seen pictures. It is a tower on a small island in a marvelous lake. It will be a change from Kirkwall, but you'll do fine. Behave yourself, listen to the others. Don simple clothes."

She looked at his fine jacket. "You should change into the simple robe we bought for you. First impression is important. It is not bad or stupid to feel alone and frightened, many other apprentices will feel the same, even if they try to show a brave face. Don't be arrogant; stand clear of remarks about their clothes, smell or behavior. And no bad jokes about dogs."

Darya smiled broadly and it was the first time he responded in kind. "Try to make one or two friends, it will be much easier for you. Be a good student but don't forget to have fun. There will be enough graveness later. And if someone talks about pranks and tests of bravery: don't shy back but always think about the consequences. Do nothing to hurt others, neither bodily nor emotionally. Before doing something ask yourself: how would I feel if someone did that to me."

Emile tried to remember all what Darya said and nodded a bit relieved. "I'll try to do that."

Darya squeezed his shoulder and smiled. "You'll do fine. And if you ever need help from me, call me by my title of Knight-Sergeant and I'll know."

_Calenhad Tower - Library, four years before the battle of Ostagar_

Darya looked at the letter she wrote an hour before. It had been strenuous to concentrate on the book in front of her, with her mind always returning to Moira. To be severed from her sister had been the hardest part in leaving Kirkwall, but there was no way that Commander Meredith would have allowed her to accompany Darya. And besides that Moira had many friends there, she had a better ability to disguise her disgust for Meredith. Thrask had been her mentor too, but she had always much more balanced than Darya. She could only hope to see her sometime. Until that regularly letters had to do.

She felt the looks from the apprentices around her. Surely it was an odd sight to see a Templar sitting in the library hunched over a history book. But she still felt the urge to learn more about her new home. It always seemed strange for her that the other Templars often reveled in being uneducated. Yes, basics of education belonged to the time in the chantry, but after leaving that and showing up for duty in the tower, the Templars appeared to be content and unwilling to increase their knowledge.

This lack of knowledge felt odd to her, but in respect of their superstitious thoughts about themes as blood magic, demons and abominations Darya could only shudder. She had fought blood mages and abominations in Kirkwall and knew the horror about them. But thinking about a young Templar killing a mage out of superstition and nescience or slaying an apprentice in the harrowing because he could not decide if that radiance was a sign of an abomination frightened her deeply.

With the help of Knight-Lieutenant Bryant she had been able to convince Commander Greagoir that improvement was necessary. She was allowed to give lessons to young Templars under her command about these dangerous themes. But she needed help. Often she had been in the library but today she had another reason to be here. The reason sat two tables away and shot irritated looks at the Templar from time to time.

Wynne had been very cool from the beginning, nearly rude to be exactly. But she was a senior enchanter and even Greagoir seemed to respect her. But what was much more important for Darya: Wynne appeared to really feel concerned about her pupils. That was something First Enchanter Irving lacked in Darya's opinion. Irving was more of a politician, always tried to free the mages from the grip of the chantry, always ready to challenge Greagoir's authority. Wynne on the other hand was a teacher by heart. Darya deeply regretted that her start had been so bad.

The Templar sighed. It would do no good to delay longer. She collected the books and went to Wynne's table. The older mage glanced coldly at her but it was too late to retreat.

"Senior Enchanter Wynne, do you have some minutes to spare?" For some moments Darya feared that Wynne would send her away, but then she nodded.

"As you know one of the duties of us Templars is to watch the Harrowing. As I learned in the last months it appears that … how I may describe that … the knowledge about what exactly could happen, how to discern dangers and what to do is a bit lacking on our side. Because I have collected some practical experience in the Circle at Kirkwall Knight-Commander Greagoir allowed me to train the younger Templars. But … I need some help. I wondered if you would perhaps support me in this task."

The older mage looked at Darya as if the Templar had gone mad and snarled: "Help you in train the Templars how to better slay us, is it that what you ask?"

Darya flinched, but then a wave of anger washed thru her head. "Always the same, always only distrust, hate and lack of understanding on both sides. I don't need your advice how to slay a mage. I surely do not wish I had learned that the hard way in Kirkwall, but I know that already. I'm not one of the Templars slicing marks in her scabbard for every killed mage. But if you have forgotten: we Templars have two duties. We protect the people from abuse of magic and we protect the mages in body and soul. To do that we have to know the difference between a devout mage and a practitioner of blood magic, the difference between a healing cantrip and a curse."

Slowly Darya talked herself into a rage, her voice rising, the apprentices around them very silent now. "We have to make sure that neither a Templar overreacts nor that he hesitates too long. Zeal without knowledge is dangerous. I want to change that. I want Templars not to be simple mage-hunters but shepherds of the flock. Until now I hoped you would feel the same and that you care about your pupils and want to shelter them from both rash swords as from the influence of blood mages. "

Darya stared at the puzzled face of Wynne, shame reddening the mage's cheeks. "There is no doubt that a Templar has to cut down a blood mage, an abomination, but it should be the clean cut of a sword to the culprit and not the blunt crush of a mace hitting all around as well." Her voice quieted, a bit of sorrow showed in her face. "There are much too many people on both sides, mages as Templars, who can only see enemies in the others. I had hoped you don't belong to them, but …"

Wynne gripped Darya's forearms, pulled her down to a seat. "You have not erred in me. And your words ashamed me more than I could express. I'll try to help you. Please explain what you have in mind."

_Calenhad Tower – Rooms of the Senior Enchanters, two years before the battle of Ostagar_

Four times he had tried to escape. Darya sighed as she thought shortly about Anders. It had been the second time that she had succeeded in fetching him. She really liked him despite his lewd humor, but it was her duty to catch him. She comprehended that there were mages unable to stay in the tower, unable to settle into a way of life they felt as a prison. But the chantry …

Knight-Lieutenant Darya that sounded good. As Lieutenant Bryant left the tower to assume the office of Chief-Templar in Lothering, Darya had been promoted in spite of her young age. Nearing her twenty-eighth birthday and already Lieutenant. With the place of Knight-Captain vacant only Commander Greagoir was her senior. But her hopes about promoting cohesion between mages and Templars had been crushed by the resistance of Greagoir and Irving. The tension between these two had increased in the last two years. They often seemed to recognize that they were thought to cooperate and spared less time in dialogue than in trying to diminish the reputation of their counterpart.

Wynne was now longer allowed to take part in the Templar training and more than once Greagoir and Irving had tried to urge Darya into altering her subject matter. It was really time for a change in leadership. She had heard that Templar Hadley was thought to be sent from Denerim to the tower and take the position of Knight-Captain, therefore being the most expected candidate of replacing Greagoir in some years. Darya had met him several times in the last years and he had made a very good impression of her. Perhaps …

Her mind wandered back to the task at hand. These long moments thinking about Greagoir, Irving, the tension, that all had been only to delay entering the room of Wynne. She knew that she acted childishly, that she should not fear this conversation with the older mage. In the last two years the two women had expanded their mutual interest of teaching into a deep friendship. But exactly that friendship had urged Darya to do something she now regretted and yet had to finish.

One year ago, Darya couldn't remember what had been the cause, she had looked into the archive of the tower. In neat lines there was recorded which mage had been apprentice since when, what had been his trespassing or merits … and which children were born to mages.

This had been one of the direst points in her life as a Templar, the order to take away the newborn child of a mage. Three times it had happened in the past years and every time she had volunteered to be the Templar who executed the order. The tears, the cries, the pounding of fists on her breastplate, the despair in the mages' voices. Darya remembered every mother and every child. She had volunteered to make sure that the mother was not pained more than necessary and that the child found a good place with the chantry.

Greagoir had been displeased about her behavior and Darya was not sure he would send her the next time. But she had to do her best. To her relief she found some merciful souls between the younger sisters at Denerim and so she had been able to carry letters to the mothers with news about their children. Perhaps it would have been better not to do such things, to let the mothers' memories slip into oblivion. But every time she saw a mother hug a new letter as if her live would depend on its existence, Darya felt reassured.

Darya knocked against the door and stepped in after the invitation was called. As expected Wynne detected Darya's tension right after her entering. "What may I do for you, child?"

"Wynne, I …" Darya sighed deeply, tried to gather her nerves, find words to start with.

The older mage smiled. "Don't be shy, spit it out. Can't be so bad."

"You don't know, Wynne. But … you know I have done something really stupid. You know stupid like the things only Templars can do."

Wynne laughed friendly. "Templars or young mages perhaps."

Even her friendliness did nothing to soothe Darya's nerves. "Perhaps you'll be angry with me, perhaps you'll want to never speak with me again …" Now Darya had Wynne's attention. "One year ago I found something in the tower archives, something about you." Darya trembled shortly and looked down. "I read about … about your son." Wynne hissed and Darya looked up shortly only to avert the mages' eyes hastily anew. "He had been sent away as it is usual. I thought ...thought that you owed to know … what happened to him. I searched for him. And I found him."

Darya played with the letter in her hands, the silence disturbing her more than any shout of Greagoir could. Abrupt she put the letter on Wynne's table and nearly fled from the room.

It was only hours later at the next supper that Wynne left the table the elder mages, went to the Templar's table and hugged Darya deeply, ignoring the stares of all around. Without a word she left Darya, the young Templar feeling sorrow leaving her heart like a heavy stone.

_Calenhad Tower – Rooms of the Junior Mages, one year before the battle of Ostagar_

The day had been good so far. Kailli Tabris underwent her harrowing without problems, Darya alleviated that she had not to slay the young elven mage. She really liked the young mage, who had always been difficult to integrate, her temperament getting her into problems almost every week. Stemming from the Denerim alienage it had been hard to get her trust for a human Templar, but she even smiled at Darya as she entered the Harrowing Chamber. Now she was a full mage, changing her rooms from the apprentice bunks to one of the rooms on the second floor. Kailli would like to have a bit of privacy, the room only sheltering three mages and with screens between the beds.

Jowan on the other hand … Darya had always mistrusted him. He was weak, not only in skill but in will and dedication as it seemed. He was a friend of Kailli and Darya heard how he tried to quiz her about the Harrowing. The reason of the secrecy about the Harrowing she never understood, but the secrecy was one of the oldest laws of the tower. He should have known that.

That Darya knew about his mésalliance with Sister Lily only enhanced her displeasure. But being herself not the most ardent follower of the rules she tried to overlook that wrongdoing so far. She only hoped that she would never regret it.

And accurately that Jowan she had to rescue now, rescue from some overeager Templars. It had all began when Captain Hadley arrived at the tower not alone but accompanied by Sergeant Bryce. The elder Templar would make a good follower of Meredith, Darya mused. Instantly they both had taken a dislike to one another. He was a primitive brute but able to collect a following of the strongest and dumbest Templars at the tower. More than once she had to intercede when Bryce mistreated one of the younger mages or apprentices. Once nearly a fistfight erupted and Darya's report of the incident delayed his promotion, something that turned his rejection into blind hate.

Since then time had been hard for her, even harder had there not been the help of Cullen and a handful of other honest Templars. She dreaded where that would end.

_Calenhad Tower – Prison, one month before the battle of Ostagar_

"Hello Anders, how do you do?" Darya greeted the mage cheerfully. It had been the fifth or sixth time that he had been captured after fleeing the tower, but his will remained unquenched. Darya was sure he would try again and deep within she hoped that he would succeed someday. Somehow Anders was a prototype of a free-spirited mage, of an apostate who only wanted to rule his own life. No one suspected him of using blood magic or cooperate with demons. He never had used but the smallest amount of violence, his heart that of a healer. Why couldn't he live in a village helping the people as he wished?

Being allowed to visit him, Darya tried to be with him once a week. One of the things she blamed Irving for was his unwillingness to spend time with sentenced mages. How could he expect to sway them on the proper path without speaking with them? Simply locking them away would do nothing good.

But today Anders was not in the mood for conversation. With a stony face and unable to hide his rage he stared at Darya. Ignoring her answers he stayed silent until she left. As she grasped the door to lock it, he stayed up at last.

"How can you allow that? I thought you liked her. And now … bah." He made a disgusted hand move, startling Darya.

"What do you mean? Do you speak about Kailli? I have tried all that I could. You know that she helped Jowan to escape. A blood mage he is. And she helped him destroy his phylactery. She had to be punished. You can't ignore …"

Anders interrupted her with an angry shout. "Punishment? Punishment you call that? How dare you. Locking her away is one thing; perhaps she deserved that, even if she only wanted to help a love couple. But what Bryce and the others do to her, that can't be the will of the maker, I can't believe that."

Ashen-faced Darya looked at Andres, her voice only a coarse whisper. "What do you mean with 'what Bryce and the others do to her'?"

"As if you wouldn't know, as if not all wouldn't know it."

Darya shoved Anders at the wall. "Stop babbling. I have no idea what you are speaking about. What is Bryce doing?"

The mage didn't answer, only look at the Templar with grief. Darya felt her heart lapse a beat and she let Anders loose. With slow steps she left the cell and looked at the prison guard in the corridor. It was one of Bryce's brutes and his look did nothing to reassure her. Anders was on the first floor of the prison, the floor containing cells for minor infractions. Kailli had been dragged to the third floor. Only with special permission of Greagoir it was allowed to go there.

Her mind whirled. She had to speak with Hadley. He must do something. Slowly she left the mage prison. _All know it_. Nearly blind she reached the hall, and the guards looked puzzled at her officer. Cullen passed the prison entrance on his way to the barracks. Darya had to harrumph a few times before she finished speaking his name.

"Cullen, have you seen Hadley or Bryce lately?"

Before he could answer one of the guards pointed to the prison. "Bryce is down there since a while."

Paling even more Darya waved Cullen to follow her and went back to the first floor. The guard started to say something with a broad smile on his face. Two seconds later he was on the floor knocked out by Darya who rummaged thru his uniform to fetch the key. "What are you doing? You can't go there, that is not allowed."

Darya pleaded. "Don't hesitate, please. I need you, Cullen, as a witness. It is on my responsibility."

With hurried steps she led Cullen down to the third floor, dread gripping her heart. As they opened the last door they were greeted by female cries and rough laughter. Darya drew her sword and rounded the corner. Bryce and two of his brutes were with Kailli, the elven mage heavily bruised.

"Go away from her, surrender and lay down your weapons." Darya didn't recognize her own voice, red waves of rage veiling her view.

Bryce let Kailli go only to draw his own weapon. "How nice, the girl who wants to be a Templar. What do you want? Take her place?" Lewd laughter followed, his men joining in but with fear in their eyes. Darya had a reputation as a good and fierce fighter and Cullen trained often with her in the last years. But Bryce seemed to ignore that and wanted to use the chance to take revenge. As he raised his weapon and continued to mock her, Darya went to attack.

She left it to Cullen to occupy the two other Templars and concentrated on Bryce. Blade connected to blade, the ring of clashing metal permeated the prison, and sparks flew wildly. Bryce was stronger but Darya quicker and her rage more than compensated her disadvantage in sheer mass. With a groan Bryce slumped to the ground, lost his sword and pressed his hands to the wound at his side.

"Darya, DARYA, don't." Only Cullen's cry prevented her from chopping Bryce's head off. She pushed him into Kailli's cell, his two men following swiftly. Heavily painting, more from her emotions than from the fight, Darya ordered: "Cullen, take her. Put your mantle around her." Retaining her bloodied blade in the hand she locked the door and led Cullen with Kailli on his hands upwards.

Nobody dared to hinder her as she left the prison. The guards scurried away and even Hadley stepped aside and followed her silently to Greagoir's room. Her look promised cold murder to everyone who dared to stand in her way. Ignoring Greagoir's shouts Darya wiped away the papers on his desk and ordered Cullen to lay Kailli down, putting her own mantle under her head.

"Cullen, leave. Close the door, fetch Wynne. She has to come immediately."

Cullen left quietly, Hadley, Greagoir and Darya waiting in unsettled silence. More than once Greagoir started to say something, every time stopping as Darya only glared at him. She knew that this would end her career as a Templar. Surely he would dismiss her. But that was unimportant now. Nothing else mattered as the life of this mage and that justice was brought to Bryce.

A few minutes later Wynne arrived, going to work immediately with only a short look at Darya's sword, understanding without words what the Templar had done. With a short bow to Wynne, Darya surrendered her sword to Hadley and left the room for the barracks.


	2. Chapter 2 Chains of the Flock

**Chains of the Flock**

_Calenhad Tower – Duncan's Quarters, two weeks before the battle of Ostagar_

Darya stared at the mirror in the guest quarter Duncan had been allowed to use for his stay at the tower. Looking at her insignia she wondered as always these last weeks that they still belonged to her. She didn't regret her rush actions in the least, but had never expected that Greagoir would simply stay silent about it. Hadley had implied that his silence was in part of remorse and to prohibit gossip about Bryce's behavior, the man's deeds smearing a stain on every Templar in Ferelden.

Whatever the reason had been, she still had her position as knight-lieutenant and Bryce was away. Greagoir had sent him to Denerim and following the rumors Bryce had left the order silently. 'By mutual agreement' they called such an event. Darya nearly laughed about it. His two companions had been ushered away to a minor church in the Bannorn, the rest of his 'band' blamed for their misbehavior by Hadley.

She never had spoken about the incident but only a single night later everyone from Irving down to the plainest kitchen hand knew about it. The reaction had been very diverse. Especially around the Templars there had been many who thought her to be a kind of a traitor, but Hadley had been Darya's strongest supporter. Around the mages she experienced widespread enthusiasm, even a kind of hero-worship from the apprentices. It had made Darya uneasy and more than once she had tried to explain to them that she had only done her duty and that this duty still encompassed her to watch out for signs of blood magic and demon pacts. Until now she had been unsuccessful in quenching the rapture.

The Templar turned as the door opened as Duncan entered. As the warden commander realized his visitor a puzzled look crossed his face, replaced by a friendly smile after some seconds. "Good evening. I'm sorry to admit but I think I'm at a disadvantage and don't know your name."

Darya bowed slightly. "I'm Knight-Lieutenant Darya, happy to meet you, Warden-Commander Duncan."

Awareness showed on Duncan's face. "Ah, I see. The Templar who defended a mage against his comrades."

With disgust in expression and voice Darya corrected him. "The Templar who defended a fellow elf from three nauseating swine which happened to wear a uniform at that time which they never had the honor and right to do in the first place. To my regret Cullen was there and had the mind to hold back my sword, prevent me from killing the dirty swine. But I didn't come here to gibber about that."

Duncan bowed his head in agreement and sat down on a chair. "So what would it be you wanted to talk about?"

_Ostagar – Duncan's Campfire, two days before the battle of Ostagar_

Darya sat on a log by the fire and rubbed her sword clean with an old rug. Looking at the smear, a mix of filth and black darkspawn blood, she allowed her face to express a modicum of disgust. The abominations in Kirkwall had been more fearsome, but certainly she didn't like to fight darkspawn. But that would be her duty now, at least until the blight was over. Throwing the rag into the fire she watched it burn away crackling.

The lithe frame of Kailli neared the fire and the young elven mage sank down to her knees. After a moment of silence she addressed the Templar with a weary voice. "I never really thanked you for what you've done."

"You don't have to thank me. It was my duty to protect you and I'm sorry that my help was needed in the first place. I hope you're alright now?"

Kailli smiled weakly. "I am. Sometimes … I dream about it, but it gets better by the week. And duty or not, most Templars wouldn't have helped me. And surely not like you did."

Darya glared shortly at Alistair, the young ex-Templar following the conversation of the two women with a puzzled look. "Don't you have something to do?"

"In the moment? No, sorry. I'm only waiting. And asking me what could have happened that an apostate is thanking a Templar …"

"Shut up. Kailli is not an apostate; she is a harrowed mage of the circle. And as you surely know it is the duty of the Templars to protect the mages. I only regret, Kailli, that you see it as something special that a Templar truly tries to follow his duty. And that you have some reason to think so."

Kailli padded Darya's knee and her smile deepened. "I'm sure you'll change that at least a bit."

_Ostagar – Old Temple, two days before the battle of Ostagar - Evening_

"What is the reason of this? I thought we made enough tests and now this joining ritual. Duncan said that we could die from it." Jory was more than a little nervous and Darya understood that he was not so afraid for his own life but for leaving his wife and child behind. Her thoughts that it was a stupid idea for a married man to join the wardens she left unspoken.

"What do you think, Kailli? Do you still want to become a warden?" Darya asked the mage.

Kailli shrugged. "I don't fear the ritual, if it is that what you mean. Even if I don't die from the ritual I could be dead in a few days, killed by darkspawn. And it is too late for that question anyway, as Duncan said."

Alistair nodded but before he could say something, Darya interrupted him. "Duncan lied. I understand why he didn't say something about the dangers but it is dishonest to hide it from candidates. It is only your decision. If you want to go thru with the ritual, I'll stay too. If you want to go back, I'll try to make sure that Greagoir behaves towards you."

"Err … you can't simply leave. It is really too late for that. Duncan won't allow it to happen." Alistair tried to intervene. He only got a scowl for it from Darya. "He can certainly try to deny Kailli her rights. It would pain me to kill him because he seems a competent warden leader to me. I only despise his morale, not his abilities." Alistair blinked, not a bit unsure about the will of this woman to really defend the mage's rights with sword in her hand. This was so against all he knew about Templars, that he not even got angry about someone threatening Duncan's life.

"Nobody has to die, Darya. As I said: I want to finish the joining. It is really okay. But promise me something please: survive. It would be hard to watch over me if you're dead."

_Ostagar – Training Ground, one day before the battle of Ostagar _

"Maker, what are you doing there? Hold back." Alistair stepped between Darya and Kailli, hindering the Templar from smiting the elven mage anew.

"Go away, puppy, you're disturbing our training." Darya hissed. Chamelle, Kailli's new Mabari really seemed to smile at these words. Perplexed Alistair looked at Darya. "Training? This is …"

Sighing Darya agreed. "Yes, training. You know, like weaving swords and wagging sparkle-fingers. Kailli tries to burn and chill me and I smite her, so that we both learn how to defend."

"Err … do you think this is a good idea? I mean to teach a mage how to defend against Templar abilities?" Alistair wondered.

Darya only shrugged. "Why not? She is a warden now in the first place. And Kailli has experience with dishonorable Templars. Next time she will give them a run for their money. I trust her to never attack an honorable Templar and the other kind …

By the way: you should train your own abilities too. You may be a warden now, but that doesn't mean you have to forget the past. If you want I can help you how to train."

"I would like that."

_Korcari Wilds, two weeks after the battle of Ostagar _

"You're very odd, do you know that?" A bit surprised Darya looked up. Morrigan had been very reluctant to talk to her, even if she spared her from the spite she threw at Alistair.

"Why do you think so? I'm not that special."

Morrigan shook her head, the puzzled look not leaving her eyes. "You know that I'm an apostate but you never said something negative about it. And as I used my shape changing abilities – something that is forbidden by your chantry – you didn't lecture me as Alistair did."

Darya sighed. "I'm not very happy about your life as an apostate or your stories about Templars hunting you and your mother. But I'm sure: if you had been forced to join the tower, there would be dead. First some of the more conservative mages and Templars would die and in the end you too. You're like Anders. He is a fee-spirited mage too. As Kailli and I left the tower he was imprisoned for trying to run away, his seventh time or so. We hope that he's free now."

"Err … YOU hope he's free, YOU a Templar?" Morrigan blinked heavily.

Darya smiled. "Yes, he's simply not meant to live in the tower. And there are certainly more dangerous things in the world than a good-hearted healer on the run. And like you he despises blood magic whole-heartedly. What you said about shape changing: Yes, it is forbidden. And yes, the chantry says many stupid things about it. But we both know the reason behind this ban: shape change makes it much harder to control a mage. What good do high affixed windows and the tower surrounded by water if you can simply switch into the body of a bird? I really can't agree with that ban. It is only a chain to bind the mages.

But to make something very clear for you: if I ever learn that you lied to me, if I ever see you using blood magic or making a pact with a demon, you're in deep trouble."

Morrigan smiled. "With that promise I can live."

_Circle of Magi – Entrance – four weeks after the battle of Ostagar_

"I'll leave him in your custody, Captain Hadley. Please watch over him. If we're successful in the tower, Irving should be able to help Connor. He is a boy and deserves a second chance. And if someone wants to intervene remember the political aspect: to slay the only son of an Arl is not something to be done lightly."

Darya hadn't to say the name Greagoir to make it clear whom she meant. Hadley ensured her: "He'll be secure. And about Jowan: we'll guard him until Irving and Greagoir decide what to do with him."

She sighed. "He should be asked about it, asked if he wants to die or made tranquil." Pushing aside the thoughts about Jowan, she shortly wondered how Isolde felt at the moment. Connor's mother could only wait and pray for her son's safety. And even if all went well, Connor would never return to Redcliffe but live in the tower.

As Alistair, Leliana, Kailli and Darya went to the entrance door, Kailli whispered: "Have you heard? Anders is on the run again." Darya nodded only and hide her smile.

#####

"Are you mad, Darya?" Petra gave the Templar a horrified look, unable to comprehend what had happened. Only seconds after Wynne opened the barrier which had protected Petra and the children for some days, Darya had attacked her without provocation, smiting her into unconsciousness.

"Shut up and cater for her. Make sure she is roped for some hours. You said yourself that the fight against that demon nearly killed her. If we would take her with us, she would die from exhaustion or killed in the coming fights. We need her; she is too precious to die now. I saw no other way; she is too stubborn."

"Hey, what's with me? Wynne is too precious to endanger her but I …" Kailli glared at Darya with a hidden smile.

The Templar sent her a haughty look: "You're only a worthless elven bitch with more good looks than taste or talent. If you die I'll have at least a modicum of leisure time for me."

Kailli gave her a rabbit punch. "You only want me out of the way so you have more chances with the men." The exchange was answered with a quizzical look of Petra and a hearty laugh of Alistair.

#####

"That book …" Kailli hastily put the grimoire back into her backpack. "You took it from Irving's study."

Kailli looked at Darya with pleading eyes. "It belonged to Flemeth. Morrigan bade me to look for it. Will you … will you mention it to Irving … or Greagoir?"

Darya pondered a moment; then she shook her head. "No, I won't. But make sure that you never regret to give it to Morrigan. I do not fully trust her, not as I trust you. Be careful."

Kailli smiled thankfully. "You're very kind to me, Darya. I'm not sure that I deserve that. But I'll be careful, I promise.

Waiting for the ship to take them back to Redcliffe Darya was grateful for the outcome of the last days. Not only had they been able to clear the tower from demons – her experiences from Kirkwall being invaluable – but they saved Irving and Cullen from Uldred's clutches. And Connor was alive. Isolde would be pleased. Kailli had been able to prove her worth in rescuing Connor, battling the demon in the fade. Even Greagoir had been less grumpy after that. He said something about "not so bad that you saved her back then". But Darya had been sure that the Commander would be back to his normal behavior in no time.

_Redcliffe – ten weeks after the battle of Ostagar_

The small amulet depicting Andraste's sword of mercy sent streams of joy thru Darya's heart. It was a present from the sentinel at the old shrine and now her dearest property.

The others often spoke about Haven, about the powers of the dragon cultists and marveled about the battle against that Andraste-imposing High Dragon. They had only been able to slay that creature thanks to the magic of Morrigan and Kailli, a new proof of the worth of magic.

But Darya only really remembered those steps, those last steps she took to pass the fire and to reach the urn. She had hesitated, hesitated for the first time in her life. The Templar had been unsure about her worthiness to touch that holy relic. The stories at the chantry about the maker smiting the infidel for their deeds had crossed her mind. But then Kailli had grasped her hand, pushed it gently and showed Darya a smile full of trust and belief.

As she crossed the wall of fire something … happened. Darya was unsure of the nature and the others couldn't tell. Had she been glowing? Even Morrigan had been unable to decline that it had been somehow very special. The Templar inherently didn't feel special but actually her powers had increased. She hoped it was only a consequence of that spiritual experience but anyhow she had to restrain herself from using her full powers in the training with Kailli. A few days before she had nearly killed the elf with an outburst of her smite and Darya was very sorry about that.

Irrespective of that Darya felt relief, relief that Andraste had seen her worthy to touch her ashes. No, she would not be a second prophet, no savior of Templars and mages. But the doubts she sometimes felt about her actions were sorely diminished now.

When the blight was over, she would work again for mages and chantry in the name of Andraste.

Smiling she went to Kailli, dragged the mage into her arms and embraced her heartily. "Thank you, Kailli, thank you." The elven mage leaned her head against Darya's shoulder. "I'm glad to help you."

_Denerim – Landsmeet, eight months after the battle of Ostagar_

Eight months had it been, eight months on the road to build an army. Mages, Templars, Dalish and Dwarves united with the humans of Ferelden. Only one last step and Alistair would be able to command the gathered army against the blight. But this last step was hers to do. Anora would never marry Alistair if he was the one to fight and kill her father. And just that had to be done now. Darya readied her weapon.

"Teyrn Loghain, you're accused of treason, regicide, attempted poison murder on Arl Eamon thru a blood mage and selling fellow elves into Tevinter slavery apart from countless other crimes. Defend yourself and may Andraste show you mercy."

Alistair had spoken about using Cailan's sword and shield in this battle. They had found both on the battlefield together with the corpse of Cailan months before. Apart from their quality they certainly would have a psychological impact on Loghain. But Darya didn't see herself as Cailan's avenger. She fought for her believe and for the united races of Ferelden, for their chance to stand together against a fearsome and merciless foe.

So it was her old Templar armor, brought to Denerim by Cullen, together with an axe presented from Kardol of the Legion of Dead and the round shield blessed to Mythal the Keeper she found in the Brecilian Forest that would accompany her thru this fight.

_Fort Drakon – Battle of Denerim_

"Darya, please, let me do it." Kailli's eyes begged Darya to allow her the killing stroke. The Templar already had lifted her weapon to pommel the mage into unconsciousness.

Her face an expression of pain Darya responded. "But I swore to protect you. We need Alistair as king and you … I can't allow you to die."

Kailli padded the Templar's cheek. "Nobody has to die. Morrigan promised it. I trust her."

A cry of anger and pain permeated the roof of Fort Drakon. Darya clenched her fists, closed her eyes; she barely felt the soft hands of Kailli on her temples, the mage trying to soothe her. "Please let me. Even if Morrigan erred it would be something great, another elf killing an Archdemon, a sign for my people."

Long moments Darya locked eyes with Kailli; then she nodded weakly, pushed her sword into the mage's hand. Kailli smiled and turned, walked to the Archdemon to end this blight forever.


End file.
